Swoon or Fail
by thegreatbluespoon
Summary: Sequel to Assumptions. Grissom needs some help from the crew when it comes to Sara.
1. Silly old fool

**Disclaimer- **Why are we all still writing these things? I think people get the point by now…

**A/N-** Sequel to Assumptions…some stuff isn't going to make sense if you don't go read it first. Oh, and review it. You have to review it for this one to make sense. Don't judge me...it's sad and I know it.

Oh, and I'll go ahead and keep this decently clean...running bet with a friend. She doesn't think I can write a fic without dropping the f-bomb. Loser! And there also won't be an assload of gay jokes in this...except for that one. ; )

* * *

They all, with the exception of Sara, who was at her apartment working on yet another culinary disaster to serve Grissom the next time he was at her place, sat around his townhouse arguing with him. 

"You're not going to do it."

"Yes, I will, Catherine."

"No, you won't, Griss," Nick said.

Warrick agreed, "You've been saying this same crap for the last, what is it, six months now. There is no way you're gonna do it this time."

"He sounds serious to me."

"Well, thank you, Greg," Grissom said and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, shut up, Greg. The only reason you're even on Grissom's side is because he still has those cards of yours."

"Thanks, Cath. Like I really needed the reminding," Greg said solemnly.

"I'm serious, you guys. I'm going to do this," Grissom sighed.

"I'll gladly turn that into a bet," Nick said.

"And I'll gladly get in on that bet," Catherine said.

"Why don't any of you believe me?"

"Because we all believed you the first seventeen times that you said something about it, and then we just started blocking it out as white noise."

"Am I really _that_ bad?" Grissom asked.

"You're seriously worse than Sara asking if you were gay."

"And that was bad?"

"Yes Grissom, that was bad!"

"Just because I didn't date Sara right away, you people thought I was gay. I still don't get that."

Everyone around the table just stared at him like he was the absolute biggest moron on the face of the earth.

"What?" he asked. "What are those looks for?"

"You're serious?"

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Why would that automatically make you all assume that I was gay?"

"Because Sara is a complete and total _goddess_!" Greg yelled. "What the hell is the matter with you?!"

"Why are you yelling at me, Greg?" Grissom asked calmly.

"Because you _suck_!"

"I though we've established that he didn't suck, Greg." Nick laughed at his own joke but no one else did, so he quickly stopped.

"For _years_ she followed you around waiting for you to pay attention to her, and you never did, you silly old bastard! I was there, everyday, to see her falling apart. We all were." Greg pointed around the table to the three nodding heads. "She was in love with you from day one and you didn't give a damn. Bone Lady, Lady Leather, and Sofia…that crap almost did her in."

"Heather," Grissom said.

"What?"

"You said 'Leather'…her name was Heather."

"We call her Lady Leather…its funny because it's true…and because we hate her," Warrick snickered.

"Why would you hate Heather? She's a very nice person."

"She's a bitch!" Greg yelled.

"Watch it, Greg," Grissom warned.

"She stole you from Sara, and it almost broke her."

"I really hurt Sara that much?"

Grissom got some pretty heavy 'DUH!' looks from the other four people in the room.

"Alright! I admit it, I'm an idiot."

"A big one."

Grissom scowled. "Yes, Greg."

"Mega huge."

"Yes, Nick."

"Beyond comparison."

"Yes, Warrick."

"Such a –"

"Jesus, Catherine. I think I got the point!"

"Sorry."

"It's fine…are you all going to help me or are you all just going to go around the lab making spreads and collecting bets on my 'ifs' and 'whens'?"

"Grissom, if you are actually serious this time…one thousand percent serious, then I'm completely behind you," Catherine said and everyone else agreed that they would help.

"Are you sure, Greg? I know that you've always had a thing for her…"

"It was kind of more than just a 'thing' but…yeah. She seems to be happy so whatever." He shrugged. "Grissom…you still have forty six of my cards."

"And?"

"This whole thing with Sara…the proposal. I mean, if I help…you think I can get them all back? Seriously, Judy won't buy me any more."

"I thought Archie said he would?" Nick asked.

"There _might _have been an incident where I _might _have taken some coffee into the AV lab and I _might_ have spilled it on some things. I _might_ have," Greg said sadly, while remembering his dear cards.

"Well that explains why Ecklie nearly handed me my ass over a ten thousand dollar repair bill." Grissom gave Greg a death stare.

"I said _might _have!"

"I hope you appreciate your job, Greg."

"I do! And the rather _lovely _people that I work with!" he said as he got up from his seat and ran over to Grissom and latched on to him, hugging him hard.

"Get…off…of…me…or…die…you…fool!" Grissom breathed out through the tight hug.

"Sorry." Greg blushed as he let go. "But, yes, I will help with the proposal."

"I really appreciate it, you guys."

"Well Gil…" Catherine started, "…with the way your first date went, I would _really_ hate for that poor girl to have to suffer through a wedding proposal from you."

"That's no lie." Nick laughed loudly, and was actually joined this time.

"Yeah…I foresee…more cops, fire, some type of explosion, a body of water, a desecrated something or other, alcohol…that's a given, Sara crying…also a given, bugs…it would be the worst marriage proposal in the history of the world!" Warrick surmised.

"The date was the worst thing I've ever heard of!" Nick laughed harder.

Grissom groaned, "Please, do _not_ remind me about that!"

"Why not? It was hilarious! We all talk about it everyday at the lab, you know."

"Why?"

"Break from the horrors of death. At first, the only thing we had to laugh at was when Sara called Ecklie a 'kiss ass'…god that was great…but then, you pulled off the absolute best date ever."

"You make fun of me every day?"

"Of course we do, Gil," Catherine said, as if it was the most normal thing to do at the lab.

"I hate you all," he moaned.

"No you don't" Nick said and patted him on the back. "If you hated us, then you wouldn't ask for our help."

"I didn't technically ask for your help. I never said 'please help me ask Sara to marry me so that I don't inadvertently blow up half of Las Vegas in the process.'"

"You said something close enough to it to make it count, Bugman."

"Sure."

"So…"

"What, Catherine?" Grissom sighed…why the hell couldn't she just say what she wanted to say instead of dragging it out?

"Do you have a ring? I want to see it!"

He instantly went bright red.

"Holy shit, he doesn't even have a ring!" Nick yelled

"What is wrong with you?!" Warrick yelled.

"Stupid!" Greg bellowed as his head hit the table.

Catherine hit him on the back of the head "For six damn months all you've been squawking on and on about is how you were going to ask her to marry you, and you didn't even have a _ring_?! What the hell is your major malfunction, Gil?!"

"I…just-"

"You just nothing! What the hell were you planning on doing? Huh?! Tying a friggin string around the poor girl's finger?"

"I-"

"Don't speak!" Catherine put her hand up to silence him "I need to think!"

Greg, Nick and Warrick just shook their heads at Grissom. How in the world, no, the universe could he _possibly_ be that obtuse? Sure Sara wasn't one for material possessions, but she was surely going to want a ring on her finger! Dumbass…

Five minutes passed by and Grissom was feeling more and more like the whole idea was a bad idea. If he had already screwed up this bad…

"Okay…I've got friends in high places when it comes to jewelry," Catherine said almost smugly. "When were you wanting to propose?"

"Uh…"

"Oh my sweet Jesus, the man doesn't even know _that,_" Greg groaned.

"Well I figured I would know when the time was right," Grissom defended himself

"Oh come off of it man! None of that dopey shit is real! This ain't a movie! You've got to _plan_ things, Griss! P-L-A-N!" Nick said while shaking his head.

"Do you know what size ring she wears?"

"Yes, of course I do! She wears a six…or, or something."

"Or something? Or something?!"

"I think it's a six," he said.

"You shouldn't _think_, you should _know_!"

"I know I should! I don't…I believe we've already established that I'm an idiot, can we move on now?!"

"How are you wanting to ask?"

"Uh…'Sara, will you marry me?'"

"That blows ass."

"Well, thanks, Greg. I appreciate your confidence in me."

"No, be romantic."

"Yeah, like _Grissom_ could be romantic!" Nick laughed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Grissom asked.

Nick stopped laughing "Uh…"

"No, seriously…what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well…your first date for a damn fine example."

"What about it?"

"Most guys use that to impress girls, and you did roller coasters and sandwiches at a crap stand on the outskirts of town. The woman had a bald patch when you got done with her. You don't exactly swoon, Grissom."

"Oh and lets not forget that one and_ only_ time you made her dinner at home." Warrick just had to bring _that_ up.

Grissom looked mortified. "She…She told you guys about _that_?"

"Oh, yeah…she told us alright!" Catherine said, "Hell, based on just that horror fest alone, you owe her some serious fairy tale stuff, Gil."

"I owe her a lot of things for a lot of things. I just don't know how to do any of it."

"She needs to be swept off her feet with this, or she _will_ kill you for it."

"We are going to get through this. We just need to be sneaky."

"What do you mean?" Grissom asked suspiciously.

Catherine smiled deviously. "First things first. Greg…"

* * *

I couldn't help it…I loved Assumptions. 

Oh…my mom read it yesterday. That was great. She turned and looked at me with this funny look on her face, gave me this motherly kiss on the forehead and seriously asked me 'what happened to you?' ---HA! I _must_ be doing something right if I can make my own mother question where she went wrong with me in life. Anyway, she is actually a fan of my writing and she loved 'A turkey teaser'. She suggested a Valentine's sequel to it…anyone up for it??

Lets me know when you review…because I know you're going to.

thegreatbluespoon


	2. stealth via Greg

**A/N-** **1)** We are all going to live in a world of sunshine, rainbows, endless boxes of poptarts, and blissful ignorance. For the sake of this story, Valentine's Day wasn't the other day. **2)** I've got a deal for you all. The longer that we can all go without me getting a review or PM the reads something along the lines of 'Jess, can we have goats?!' the better your chances are of receiving the horrid little creatures that I will _never_ live down. Whomsoever sends me the little review or PM requesting them will ruin it for all and I will **_SO _**tattle on you to everyone. **3)** kakidoll is wicked awesome because she beta'd this little ditty. Commas are of the devil.

Oh...after having read this before you all...my brother says that I should tell you to use the bathroom now. Don't know why...

* * *

Catherine smiled deviously. "First things first. Greg…" 

"Oh, oh, me first?!"

"Of course, I want to get rid of you."

"Ha ha."

"Enough, you two," Grissom cut in. "I'd like to know what's going on. Are we going to have to get Jim involved so that the police don't come after us?"

"Most likely," Catherine nodded and answered with a straight face.

Grissom didn't know what to think. His question had been totally sarcastic, but she wasn't kidding around, the cops were probably going to get involved!

"Alright, where is Sara at right now, or do you not know that, either?" Catherine asked.

"That I do know. She's at her apartment, trying to come up with new food ideas for us to try."

"Why aren't you two living together, anyway?" Nick asked.

"I don't know," Grissom answered honestly. He didn't know why he had never asked Sara to move in with him. "We just never talked about it."

"You do realize that if you get married she'll be here all of the time? Don't you think you should adjust to that feeling _before_ you get hitched?" Warrick asked. "Trust me, it is a messed up feeling to have someone around constantly."

"Is that why you're getting divorced?" Greg asked.

"Why do you have to say it like that, man?" Warrick threw a wadded up napkin at him. "Yes, that is probably a reason, but its not the only one."

"You going to spill, or are we going to have to guess?" Nick asked.

"You're going to have to guess," Grissom cut in. "This is not about Warrick and Tina; this is about me and Sara."

"Greg is the sneakiest out of all of us, proven with that whole Ecklie-toupee-superglue thing, so he's the one to get into her apartment and find out for sure what size ring she wears," Catherine stated. "We need to get Sara out of her apartment."

Grissom thought about it for a minute. "The only problem is that when she gets on these little cooking sprees, there is nothing to stop her."

"Well, make something up," Warrick suggested.

"Like what?"

"Tell her…tell her there is a really cool forensics show on TV tonight that you want to watch with her. That's better than roller coasters," Nick recommended.

"Original, Nick, and anyway, we've already watched them all."

"Tell her you're horny and she needs to be here stat," Greg laughed.

"That's not funny, Greg." Grissom scowled.

"Greg, just start heading over there and we'll think of something. She should be gone by the time you get there."

"Should be?"

"If she is still there, then the obvious thing to do…?"

"Hide," Greg finished her sentence.

"Here's her key, Greg. Try not to be too creepy, her neighbors are nosy as hell," Grissom warned as he handed Greg the key.

"Oh man, this is _so_ cool!" Greg cheered. "I'm gonna be like a spy!" with that said, he was out the door and off to Sara's apartment.

"Why do we feed him sugar?"

---

Twenty minutes later and Sara was at Grissom's townhouse to join the rest of the geek troupe, minus Greg of course.

When Greg left, Nick had come up with the brilliant plan to call Sara and tell her that Grissom had thrown his back out. It worked and she said that she would be right over.

Greg deftly waited in the shadows that the trees and shrubs formed around the wall of mailboxes outside of Sara's apartment complex. When he finally saw her truck pull out, full out ninja mode kicked in.

"Do do do do doooo…do do doooo…do do. Bond, Greg Bond. Oh wait, that was the Mission Impossible theme song. Whatever," he said to himself as he shrugged and continued on singing quietly as he slid, rather unnecessarily, along a row of parked cars in the lot.

After cutting his knee open on a license plate and crying for ten minutes like a seven year old girl that just watched her puppy get hit by a car, Greg gathered his wits about him and continued singing his songs. "Secret aaagent man, secret aaagent man…they've given you a number and taken away your name..."

He did a series of tuck and rolls, pathetic excuses for summersaults, back flips (he'll be swinging by the hospital on the way home just in case, due to the noise his back made from the last one), and the most god awful moonwalk you've ever seen in your life.

"It's just really not fair to everyone else how cool I am," he sighed and laughed as he did a quickie dive over an azalea bush before a neighbor walking their dog could see him. "Ahahaha…they will never catch me!" he laughed maniacally.

Greg quickly did a visual check…oh hell yeah! Sara's apartment was on the third story. '_Time for some serious kung fu, lightning quick, crouching rabbit hidden, um…what was it?_' He thought as he surveyed the building before him.

The stairs that led to the upper levels were all along the outer walls of the complex, so Greg took it upon himself to scale the walls and guard rails like he was a friggin' rock climbing expert. After a near fall, when he gagged because he put his hand into someone's gum, he decided that more tunes would help. "I'm a survivor, keep on survivin'…"

As he dangled from level two of the apartments, his phone began to ring. Ever-so-skilled in the art of kick assery, Greg answered the phone while still hanging on.

"Bond."

"Who?"

"Sorry, still in character. Greg. What do you need, Cath?" he asked as he hoisted himself up to rest comfortably on the rail.

"What's taking so long? It takes twenty minutes to get to her apartment and you've been gone for three hours!"

"Uh, skills, Catherine, skills," Greg said, like she should have already known the answer to the question.

"What the hell kind of skills does it take to climb up some stairs, put a key in a door, rifle around for a bit and steal a ring?" she asked.

"Climb the- hello?! I can't just waltz right up the front steps. These people don't know me. I have to be stealthy about this."

"What is wrong with you? Did you eat paint chips as a kid?"

"Actually, yes I did. That has nothing to do with this, though. I have to go, neighbors are coming!" Greg hung up and threw himself back over the ledge to hide from the neighbor returning from his dog walk.

After the man had disappeared into his apartment, Greg began singing any random song he could think of since he was out of spy songs. 'In the still of the night…I held you, held you tight …'Cause I love…love you soooo…' he sung in a high-pitched voice.

Once he finally flung his leg over the last rail, Greg was damned proud of himself. "Level three. Area appears to be secure but will proceed with caution. Over." Greg spoke into his watch as if someone were going to speak back at any moment and give him orders on how to proceed.

He put his back to the wall, fished Sara's key from his pocket and began to slide slowly along. He stepped over potted plants and a lazy cat that wouldn't get out of his damn way. Greg then reached his final destination, Sara's apartment.

He put the key in the lock and got on the other side of the door before anyone noticed him. Thankfully, Sara had left in a bit of a rush, so most of her lights were still on.

Sara's place smelled like, well it smelled like if you had taken every type of nastiness on the face of the earth, put it in a blender and burned it, that's what it smelled like. Sara was _not_ a good cook.

Greg took his not-so-stealthy time and checked the place out. She might be ready to straight up beat your ass at work, but Sara was a girly girl. Purple walls and butterflies (wonder where those came from) were in the living room. Her kitchen, or the 'reek' room as Greg had dubbed it, was a nice yellow color with flowers of all colors on the counter. And then Greg realized that he was going to need to go into Sara's _bedroom_ to find a ring.

SCORE!

As Greg scampered into her room, he was as happy as a kid that just watched their school burn to the ground.

He wasn't going to invade her privacy any more than what he was doing now…because surely she would find out and kill him mercilessly for it. So, Greg went straight for the top of her dresser where her jewelry box was and dug out a ring that was in the back. He figured that, if it was from the back of the box, it meant that she never wore it and wouldn't notice it was gone.

Great, so now he's got the goods…but Double Agent Greg is hungry after all of that hard work. He wandered out to the kitchen again and fixed a sandwich with…stuff that was…well, he didn't really know what it was. Some kind of vegetarian something or other, but it was damn tasty.

He then wondered around the living room for a couple of minutes as he ate his sandwich. He looked at the paintings on Sara's walls, and the butterflies too. Grissom_ could_ be a little romantic…who knew?

About half way through his trek, his phone rang again.

"Greg."

"What the hell are you doing now?"

"Finding her jewelry box," he lied.

"You're lying."

"No I'm not."

"You're eating! I can hear you chewing!"

"Am not!"

"We send you to do one damn thing, Greg! You're eating on the job?"

"No, the job is done. I'm eating on the escape," he said as he swallowed the last bit of sandwich.

"Get out of there NOW!" Catherine yelled into the phone.

"I am. Why the rush?"

"Sara is leaving because she says she has some miracle concoction for his muscles at her place. She's going back there to get it. That means you need to leave!"

"I'm going right now." He hung up and headed to the door in a hurry.

When he put the key into the door to lock it back, still trying to be sneaky as all get out, a voice from behind scared him.

"FREEZE!"

Well, hell yeah Greg froze. You would too if you had two cops with guns drawn on you.

"My name is G-"

"We don't care!"

"I work-"

"We don't care!"

"Badge in my pocket!" Greg managed to squeak out before one cop dropped him to the ground with a knee directly to Greg's naughty bits.

"Check his pockets Wally," the older of the two men said.

Wally dug around in Greg's pocket and came up with his lab badge. "Hey, this kid works at the crime lab. Bob, he ain't a thief, he's an idiot."

"Kid, what are you doing out here sneaking around like a damned fool?" Bob asked.

Wally helped Greg up off of the ground and Greg gave him the rundown of the situation…the whole situation.

Greg started talking in rapid fire. "It's terrible. Gays that aren't really gay. Porn cards that won't get returned to me. There were roller coasters and vomit, and movies with suckers too. There was a cop there with coffee, but they said it was all right because it was cold. Then, apparently I was drunk, but I don't remember. Something about God and Hodges got beat up and Catherine got her nails done and wouldn't shut up about them for a week. And now the boss wants to marry the date girl but he sucks at basically everything in life, well really he just sucks at life. And I'm here to break in, well, not 'break in' break in, I've got a key, because I had to see what size ring the date girl wears. Oh, and the worst part of all was that no one would shut the hell up about all of these g-"

"Son, are you alright?" Bob cut him off.

"I'm fine, I just needed in the apartment for a bit and I got what I needed. I know the woman that lives here though. You can check it all out. Her name is Sara Sidle, S-I-D-L-E, and we work together at the lab."

Bob went to the car to check the information out and call Sara about Greg, while Wally stayed behind with Greg to make sure he didn't run. Of course, being all stealthy and stuff, Greg already had his escape planned if that's the way it went down.

* * *

Oh me. There might actually be something wrong with my mind. I'll get that checked out later…or will I? 

Um…oh, yeah! 'In the Still of the Night' by The Five Satins, Greg's version of 'Survivor' by Destiny's Child, and some song that I remembered the words to, but don't remember the name of and really don't feel like looking up.

Reviews!

thegreatbluespoon: )


	3. The great escape

**A/N-** **1) **Congrats on not bringing up the retarded farm animals. I'm really rather proud of you all. Still don't do it…seriously, just don't a wee bit longer. **2) **Thanks Estel A Duath for some animalistic terminology ; )** 3)** Once again, I thank kakidoll for fixing my uh-ohs. There are always a crap ton, and she certainly had her work cut out for her this time. A second grader would have laughed at me...then I would have given them a wedgie.

* * *

"What happened to you?!" 

"Here's your _ignorant_ ring…I need a drink," Greg said, as he dropped Sara's ring into Catherine's hand.

They all watched as Greg, or what was left of him, stumbled to Grissom's liquor cabinet and began rummaging around.

"You look like shit, Greg," Warrick stated.

"Really? Because I _feel_ great," Greg snapped, as he found the bottle he was looking for.

"Sorry."

After Greg downed a shot…or three, he turned and pointed at Grissom. "Give…me…my cards, old man. Give them to me _now_."

"Greg, what happened to you?"

Greg sighed. "Someone really ought to call Brass. You need to tell him that the cops are out there looking for me."

"What?!" came from everyone in unison.

"Why the hell are the cops looking for you, Greg?! What did you do?" Grissom asked in a very worried tone.

"Hey, don't blame me! Everything was just fine and dandy until Sara's neighbors went all paranoid and called Dumb and Dumber to come and _arrest_ me."

"Oh, my god."

"Yeah. Oh, I almost forgot, then I got kicked in the nuts."

Nick and Warrick started laughing while Catherine got some ice for Greg. Meanwhile, Grissom was on the phone trying to talk Brass into coming over to help.

"Here." Catherine handed Greg the ice. "So…cops don't really explain your whole look, Greg." She said, checking him from top to bottom.

Greg was missing a big part of one pant leg, his entire shirt (save for the tiny bits that were stuffed into his nose to stop the bleeding, and the bloody part wrapped around his ankle), and the sole of one shoe was flopping halfway off. He smelled like rotting ass…in the late stages. He was sporting a terrible black eye and had cuts and bruises all over.

"Jim is on his way." Grissom grunted as he hung up the phone. "Greg, I'm not giving you _all_ of your cards. At least not until the job is done."

"Jersey," Greg muttered as he downed another shot.

"What?"

"Give…just give me Jersey and I'll be fine for now."

Grissom retrieved Greg's cards and fished the one and only Jersey out. After a battered Greg snatched her up, Nick prodded for more info.

"So, Greg, those cops beat you up?"

"Hell no!"

"Who, then?" Warrick asked.

"I refuse to tell you."

"Why?"

"_Because_…" Greg drawled out. "…It's _embarrassing_ and I'll just have to repeat myself when Brass finally shows up."

"Fine, we'll wait."

"Grissom, you got anything stronger than this around here?" Greg asked, waiving around the liquor bottle.

"Greg, you're doing shots of straight vodka. That's strong enough."

"Buzz kill."

Half an hour later and Brass was there. While they were still waiting, Sara called to tell Grissom that she wouldn't be able to make it back to his house due to some fiasco at her apartment, actually in her whole neighborhood.

"Why did I awake to a frantic call from you, Gil?" Brass finally asked, after taking in the group surrounding him.

"Greg needs help. Actually, it's me that needs the help. Greg is in trouble for trying to help me," Grissom explained, pointing to Greg.

"Kid got his ass beat…you do it?" Brass asked.

"No, _I_ didn't. He went to Sara's apartment and someone called the cops-"

"_Cops_ beat you up?!" Brass interrupted.

"No," Greg muttered.

"Who then? Girl Scouts?" Brass joked.

"Holy- How'd you know?! Are they here?!" Greg sat straight up, clutching the card to his chest protectively.

The room erupted in laughter.

"You…got beat…up by…Girl Scouts?!" Nick sputtered through his laughter.

"You're taking it out of context!" Greg defended himself.

"Yeah, okay!" Catherine snorted.

"In what context is _that_, getting beat up by little girls, okay?!" Warrick laughed.

Greg rolled his eyes, took another shot, and with a deep breath, began to recite his tale of the 'great escape' gone wrong.

---

While Officer Bob was at the car checking on the information Greg had given him, Wally wasn't paying quite as much attention to Greg as he really should have been.

Excellent. That played very well into his escape plans.

Greg pointed out to Wally, the cat crawling along the wall of Sara's neighbor's apartment. When Wally, idiotically, went to inspect the pile of fluff, Greg seized the chance and slinked off towards the rails.

Making sure Wally was still entertaining the cat; Greg climbed over the rail and began his, rather awkward, trip back to the ground. No songs this time, Greg had to be quiet. Wally might be borderline retarded, but surely he wasn't deaf.

Greg flung his legs over the rails and lowered himself to the second level just in time to hear Wally yell something about 'That sumbitch is missin, Bob!'

He laughed to himself, then dropped quickly to the first floor. This time, he was met by a dog.

---

"Based on the Girl Scouts, I'm going to stop you and ask…was it a poodle?" Nick laughed.

"No it was NOT a poodle," Greg snapped. "It…it was _bigger_ than that."

"Rottweiler?"

"No…a little smaller than that, but definitely not a poodle. Like, like a mix of pure evil and precious rolled into one." Greg described the most _adorable _dog on the face of the earth, then added fangs, ten-inch claws and bat wings to the picture.

"You're just exaggerating now, Greg," Catherine snorted.

"Am I? Am I really?" Greg asked as he held up his bloody leg with half the cloth missing.

"Alright, so there's a dog now. What next?" Brass asked.

---

This dog did _not_ intimidate Greg at all. Why the hell should he be intimidated by the cute lil' fella?

When he went to climb over the last rail, Teddy Bear the Wonder Dog latched onto Greg's pant leg. He was a strong little bastard too. Immediately, Greg could hear the fabric ripping, which really sucked because those were his favorite jeans.

Greg stumbled back as he tried to free his leg from the vice grip that Satan had bestowed upon the dog, and he, in turn, had bestowed upon Greg's leg. He hit the guardrail with his back and fell over the edge.

He landed flat on his back on the hard ground. It hurt like hell, but hey, the furry little jackass was no longer attached to him, so things must be looking up…right?

Just as Greg realized that a rather generous portion of his pants were missing, and that he was bleeding, Bob rounded the corner and spotted him on the ground. He yelled up to Wally, who still hadn't made it to ground level yet.

Greg quickly gathered his wits and got up. He limped away as fast as he could towards the same parking lot he slinked through earlier. He ducked behind a car and hid as best as he could in the daylight. Then, he took off his top shirt and tore a strip off to wrap around his leg, silently praying that the furry little bastard didn't have rabies.

He heard Bob and Wally checking around all of the cars, so Greg needed to move…but where? Any place he went was going to expose him. Maybe he could just sit tight for a minute he thought…

…until Bob got on his radio and called for all available backup in the area to come help with the 'possibly dangerous suspect'. That got Greg off his ass in a heartbeat.

Seeing no other way but those that would obviously lead him straight out into the open, Greg opted to hop a fence into an empty lot next door. This is where Greg's torso became fully exposed.

It was a chain link fence that Double Agent Greg decided to hop. When he took his running jump at it, things were fine. When he was making his way down the other side, things were not. His plain white undershirt caught on a link and ripped completely off him, leaving a decent cut on his back in the process.

---

"So…first you get your ass kicked by a little puppy, then a fence?" Brass laughed.

"It was a _dog_, not a _puppy_, and excuse me, Mister Universe, at least _I_ can still make it over a fence," Greg retorted as Grissom went to get his first aid kit.

"Alright, so you nearly die hopping this fence as you continue to break numerous laws…and?"

---

Greg landed on his feet…barely, and headed for the small crowd of everyday people that filled the sidewalk. Just because it looked like an asteroid had hit him, didn't mean he wouldn't fit in…this _was_ Las Vegas, and you know what the say about Vegas…

Ah, perfection! A bus stop was right on the corner. What a perfect getaway for a not-so-perfect ring/sandwich thief.

When Greg stepped onto the bus, he was elated to think that he had dodged the cops. When he went to pull out his wallet, however…that grizzly son of a bitch! Fluff and stuff had managed to cause Greg to drop his wallet someplace. Greg had only half of what was needed to catch a ride.

The bus driver was having none of the 'half naked bleeder's excuses and told Greg to get off. When Greg tried to reason one last time, the driver stood up, towering over him. Greg stepped down and out the door. Before he was all the way out, the driver shut the door on his foot.

Greg hopped along for a couple of feet before he finally slipped his foot out. Great, now his shoe was trashed.

So now he is standing in the middle of a Vegas sidewalk- half naked, bleeding, possibly rabid, hot, sweaty, wanted by the freaking police, his favorite jeans destroyed, awesome shoes ruined, and damn it, he's kinda hungry again. Does Grissom's inability to do _anything_ right rub off on _everyone_ around him?

Greg instantly realized that, if his wallet was missing, the ring very well might be too. A quick check of his pockets flooded him with relief that the ring was still there. With that relief, he headed up the walk.

Halfway there, he spotted a table of cookies. Delicious looking cookies, actually. No freaking way…Girl Scout cookies! Only the best damn cookies ever!

Greg _had _to have some of those cookies. His day had been crap so far, and he was hungry.

He walked up to the table and greeted the two little girls that stood by it. Suddenly they started screaming at the top of their lungs. They were yelling something about 'naked perverts' and 'stranger danger'. Little girls in fear of their lives can be some _violent_ people.

Next thing Greg knows, he's taken another shot to the groin and is on the ground in the fetal position having the crap kicked out of him…by two Girl Scouts. Then, what Greg will swear in court to, what must have been twelve more of them came from nowhere.

And the mothers…dear Lord, the mothers.

Life Lesson- DO NOT approach little girls on the street when you are bleeding and half naked. You _will_ get your ass beat.

---

"How'd you get back here?"

"Why do you smell so bad?"

"What about Wally and Bob?"

"You get any of those cookies?"

Greg gave everyone a death glare at their sarcastic questions. "I hate you all."

---

One of the mothers stuck around to call the cops while the two others got the little girls out of there. Greg knew that the cops weren't going to take very long to get there since they were right around the block. He really needed to go.

He climbed to his feet and stumbled away, with the mother yelling after him the whole time to stop. He was moving as fast as his legs would go, which really wasn't very fast at all. Two nut shots in less than an hour will truly slow a guy down.

Sirens every damn place. Behind him, in front of him and every other direction around him, there were police sirens. He definitely needed to hide…and plot Grissom's death. This was not freaking cool.

Just as Greg was passing by an alley, a cop car turned the corner so Greg dove without looking. He probably should have looked first. He landed in a great big pile of nasty.

---

"That explains the smell."

"Yeah. Some Thai restaurant had a dumpster overflowing and I landed in it."

"Lucky you," Grissom said as he handed Greg the kit and the rest of his cards.

Greg's eyes lit up. "Really?!"

"You damn well deserve them," Grissom said, and they all agreed.

"Greg, how did you get here?"

"Well, it was easy to avoid Bob and Wally. Those two are just dumb as all get out. I circled back to Sara's apartment and found my half-eaten wallet."

"Then?"

"I took the money I had left, about fifty dollars, and found a homeless guy. Brilliant Bob left the keys in the car. I gave Homeless Joe the fifty and he drove me here."

"In the cop car?!"

"Yup," Greg said proudly, as he began to clean his wounds.

"Greg, that story is, like, forty years in jail…at least."

"Yeah, that's why Brass is here, because he loves me and he'll get me out of this. Right?"

"Uh…" was Brass' response.

"Besides, Homeless Joe suggested I take all the info Bob had on me. Now they've only got what they remember, and I doubt that's very much. So, now it's on to stage two of Swoon or Fail."

* * *

Yeah, I know…Greg got beat up _again_. Leave me alone about it. It's going to happen again and again. To make it up to you, someday, I'll write another story where Sara beats Catherine up again. Yeah, that sounds nice. 

Okay…reviews dammit! I mean, reviews please!

thegreatbluespoon--- was semi-depressed because her snow is damn near gone, but the shaving scene SO cheered her up!


	4. Heirlooms

I'd thank **kakidoll** for the beta, but she said there wasn't anything wrong with this! I'll just thank her for being cool as hell. Oh, want to know something funny as hell? My beta actually owns two goats. Oh, and talk about the damn goats all you want now. I'm cool with it, thanks for actually listening to me! You guys kick ass.

_And…_

Oh snap, I've offended someone again! TDK- One, learn to spell please. It would make your reviews more effective. Two, as for your review of 'Assumptions'…what the hell? Did you not see that big A/N in chapter 5? I've got no issues with gay people! Three, as for your review of this story…My apologies for anyone I offended by saying 'retarded', but I'll say 'retarded' all I damn well please. I'll say the same thing I said before. I know I offended some people, but I've entertained others and blah, blah, yadda, yadda. I really don't care about political correctness...as you can tell from pretty much everything I've written.

* * *

Greg continued to clean his wounds, while Nick and Warrick poorly acted out his escape from Sara's apartment. They gave extra care to the scene depicting the child filled and cookie-less violence. 

"You guys suck. You know that, right?" Greg asked.

Their response was acting it out again.

"Hold up a minute, Greg. I'm still…confused. So, there's a homeless guy…out there in Vegas…driving around in a cop car?" Brass asked.

"Nah, don't be silly, Brass," Warrick said. "It's probably been stripped and sold of for crack, booze and hookers by now," he laughed.

"Unless they saved the car to do the crack, booze and hookers in," Nick supplied, laughing along with Warrick.

"Gee, that makes me feel _so _much better," Brass said as he stole the vodka bottle from Greg and took a drink.

Nick decided it was time to make fun of Greg again. "I still can't believe that you went through all of that and didn't even get a cookie."

"Oh, wow, so funny. You ever have a thousand little demons kicking _you_ in the nuts?"

"No," Nick chuckled.

"Then zip it, beefcake."

"Alright, boys, that's enough," Catherine said. "Greg, you have some nasty cuts on your back. Want me to get them for you?"

"Please."

"I've got another question. What is this 'Swoon or Fail' business Greg's talking about?" Brass asked, obviously confused.

Grissom sighed. This was _not_ his day. "Apparently, Greg's given this whole thing a name."

"Swoon or Fail. No, _Operation_ Swoon or Fail…much cooler," Greg said proudly with a nod.

"What is 'this whole thing'?"

"Griss is wanting to ask Sara to marry him," Warrick said.

Brass rolled his eyes. "He has for the last six months."

"But…" Nick said, pointing to Greg. "…As you can see, he's serious this time and has recruited us for help."

"Why am _I_ the last to know?"

"You just got here. You were back at your cousin's farm, Jim," Grissom explained.

Greg's eyes lit up. "You mean the farm with all the-"

"Greg, you say it and I'll beat your ass," Catherine warned.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm just now getting over the nightmares, though. I don't need a relapse."

Grissom wasn't really aware of what Catherine was talking about, so he just left it alone. "Anyway, I don't know if you heard, but I took Sara on a date while you were gone to the farm the first time, Jim."

"A date? You mean, _the_ date?" Brass asked.

Grissom looked surprised. "You know about that?"

"Gil, I think people in China know about the worst date in history."

"It wasn't _that _bad, people." Grissom rolled his eyes.

"Well, you _did_ make her choke on her cheap date food."

This horrified Grissom. "Did…uh, did she tell you what made her choke?"

"That's actually the one thing she wouldn't tell us."

"Oh, thank God." Grissom sighed with relief.

"That bad?"

"Don't ask." Grissom laughed nervously. "It's bad enough that you all know about the rest of the date."

"And the failed attempt at the homemade dinner."

"Still can't believe she told you about that."

"I'm glad she did," Nick said. "Every time a girl says she doesn't like something about the date we're on, I just tell her about your date and dinner. After that, she stops complaining pretty fast."

"You do _not_ use my horrors to ease your dates," Grissom said in disbelief.

"Yeah, actually, I do," Nick said.

"So do I." Catherine shrugged.

"Same here," came from Greg.

"That's how I roll," replied Warrick.

"What are you looking at me for?" Brass asked when Grissom shot him an unbelieving look. "Its not like I go out with women to terrify with tales of your dates."

"You are not good friends," Grissom huffed.

"No. We're GREAT friends," Greg said, pointing at his chewed up leg. "Really,_ really _great friends."

"Great?" Grissom said aloud, but more in thought than in question.

"What are you thinking about, Gil?" Catherine asked.

"Great…something. I don't know. Greg's whining got me thinking."

"It's not 'whining' if it's justified!" Greg hollered and raised his leg in the air. "_Justified_ all the way!"

"Shouldn't we take him to get tested for rabies or something?" Warrick asked.

"It's not like the dog was a stray. Besides, I think rabies would actually calm Greg down," Brass laughed.

"Shut up," Catherine said. "Seriously, what are you thinking about, Gil?"

You could practically see the light bulb above Grissom's head go on. He took off down the hall to his bedroom in a hurry.

"Where the hell is he going?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, because I'm a psychic, Nick." Brass answered and followed after Grissom.

Catherine ordered Nick and Warrick to patch Greg up the rest of the way and joined Brass in Grissom's bedroom doorway. Brass was watching Grissom tear through his closet.

"What are you looking for?" Catherine asked the figure throwing boxes from the closet.

No answer, just more boxes being thrown.

"What's he looking for?" she asked Brass.

"I have no clue. Important apparently."

"Ah-ha!" Grissom exclaimed. "I've found it!"

"What is it?"

Grissom came out carrying a beautiful, small wooden box. He began walking out of his room, Catherine and Brass in tow, brushing the dust off of the box. "I forgot all about it until Greg said 'great'." He smiled proudly.

"What the hell is it?!" Catherine was damn tired of waiting.

"What's that?" Greg asked.

'Well, if I knew that, Greg, I wouldn't be asking, now would I?" Catherine snapped.

"Open the damn box, Gil, you're killing me!" Brass said.

Grissom opened the box. Inside was a ring. "It was my grandmother's wedding ring. She always said that her great grand children would wear it. She was actually the only person that ever had confidence in me getting married one day. No one else thought that I would find someone to tolerate bugs and dead people." He shrugged.

Greg punched Grissom in the arm. "You had a ring the whole time?! I went through all of that for nothing?!"

"No, Greg. You got the ring for size, remember?"

"Oh…yeah, sorry." he blushed.

Catherine was in absolute Girly Girl Heaven. The ring was friggin' beautiful. Sara was going to love it. "It's too big for Sara though."

"The women in my family weren't exactly…Sara's size." Grissom grinned.

"So, it needs resized? Do you know what size Sara wears?" Brass asked.

"That's why Greg broke…went to Sara's place, to find out. That way we could buy the right size, now we'll know what size to get this changed to."

"You know, my cousin…aside from being a-" Brass started.

"Don't," Catherine cut in.

"Farmer. Aside from being a farmer, he is a pretty famous jeweler you know."

"Really?" Grissom asked.

"Oh, yeah. For a friend of mine, he'd even do a job for free."

"Who is he?" Catherine asked.

"Pete Somalia." Brass said proudly.

"No way!" everyone exclaimed.

"Yep. He isn't too busy this weekend you know. I bet he would be more than happy to take care of this for you, Gil."

"That would be great, Jim. One less thing for me to screw up royally."

"Yeah, Griss needs all the help he can get in that field!" Nick laughed and was joined by Warrick.

"Can we all go home now?" Greg whined.

"Why?" Catherine asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Probably because I was attacked and violated on more than one level today and would love nothing more than to try and sleep it all off," he reasoned.

"Kid's got a point," Brass said.

"Okay, everyone has simple cases going right now, right?" Grissom asked.

"Yes," was unanimous.

"Well, tomorrow is Friday. Do your best to clear them up and we'll all head to the…farm after shift. I'll tell Sara that I'm going to a weekend conference or something."

"No freaking way! I get to go to the-"

"Greg!" Catherine yelled.

"To the_ farm _with you all?" he corrected himself.

"Why not? You _will_ behave yourself…right?" Brass asked.

"Well, hell yeah!" he grinned.

"I really don't see this going too well," Warrick said.

Nick, Grissom and Catherine all agreed, but Brass said that he would try his best to keep an eye on Greg while they were there.

"Hey, Brass, you think I could get a ride home?" Greg asked.

"Yeah, sure…it's not like you can really show your face out there right now anyways."

As everyone filed out of Grissom's house, Warrick yelled to Greg "Peace out, Girl Scout!"

Grissom couldn't sleep that night, he was too nervous. His grandmother's ring on Sara's finger…what a nice thought.

Since he couldn't sleep, he figured he would try and relax, maybe watch a little television. Too bad _every _channel was covering the high-speed pursuit of a stolen police car…

* * *

Oh my! I'm going on a field trip to the goat farm! Who is coming with me? 

Reviews my goat loving dearies!

thegreatbluespoon


	5. Edibles

A massive thanks to kakidoll for the beta job. Kim…my apologies for the amount of work you had to do. I was flustered ; ) Um…There are people I really needed to thank right here, but I can't, for the life of me, think of who. They ought to know who they are, and I'm sure they'll remind me.

As promised…the goat farm.

* * *

The 'Goatastical Ring Trip', as Greg began calling it, had started decently (even though Greg was shoved in the back hatch with the suitcases) and was filled with bathroom stops every twenty minutes because of Warrick and his peanut sized bladder. It was also filled with random lab stories, and the absolute most ignorant game of 'I Spy' in the history of road trips initiated by –you guessed it- Greg. It started with the color green- Which ended up being the damn numbers on the clock. Then the color blue- 'the heavenly color of Grissom's eyes', Greg teased. And, though it was argued by all in the truck that it wasn't a color, Greg won out in the end, with the most ignorant of all, the color 'shiny'- Brass' bald spot. This earned Greg a hard swat to the back of the head.

All thanked Nick when he finally put Greg in a sleeper hold, successfully knocking him out. Catherine _might_ have slipped a bit of NyQuil into his soda too, so that could've have had an effect on things as well.

While Greg slept, Nick and Warrick drew random things on every inch of his exposed skin. The drawings, not for the faint of heart, were rather…impressive. As they doodled, Grissom told stories about his grandmother's ring. How it had survived wars, his burying and digging it back up as a kid, proposing with it to a girl in second grade, the time he ate it when he got it back from her, how he fed it to the neighbor's dog, and how he had then cut it out of the neighbor's dog when it choked to death on it…all that good, everyday-drama, you know.

Nearly three hours into the trip, the conversation turned to current events.

"So, Gil, where exactly does Sara think you're going?"

He sighed. "Do you people even realize how hard it is to lie to that woman?"

"Guilty conscience?"

"No. She's smart as hell, and I can't lie to save my life."

"That's so true!" Nick laughed. "Remember when you were dodging Ecklie because of Greg and the ten-grand repair bill?"

"Oh, yeah!" Catherine poked Grissom. "Best lie I've heard."

" 'I've got staff reviews to do' " Warrick did a Grissom-y impression.

"Why is that the best lie?" Brass asked.

"Like Grissom actually does those reviews." Catherine scoffed.

"Yeah…" Brass drawled out. "…So where does she think you're going?"

"She reads everything I do, practically, so it's hard to be creative. Good thing she was busy helping set up her new Neighborhood Watch program. That distracted her. She thinks I'm going to a lecture on dung beetles."

"Ew." Came from all…that were awake.

"That's what she said. I picked dung beetles, because who wants to hear about that?"

"I wouldn't." Warrick answered. "That's nasty."

Everyone was laughing, but Greg mumbling cut them off. Great, he's waking up. That's really just what they needed with another hour and a half, at least, to drive.

"Mmm…purple." He mumbled.

Everyone snickered.

"Jersey…s'okay." He was grinning. Maybe he was dreaming, not waking up.

Fingers crossed on that one…

Greg dreaming would've been the case, had Grissom not hit the Grand Canyon of potholes just then, sending everyone's head up to meet the roof.

"Son of a bitch!" came from all as they rubbed heir heads. Yeah, Greg was definitely up by now.

"What the hell was that?!" he shouted.

"Pot-hole. Sorry." Grissom answered.

"The sun's setting?" Greg observed. "How long did I sleep for? Aren't sleeper holds only supposed to last for a few minutes?"

"You slept for about two hours. Maybe Nick is just really strong" Catherine reasoned. "Its not like anyone drugged you or anything." She smiled.

"I know that, Cath." He smiled and scratched at a small itch on his face. "I trust you guys completely."

Everyone snickered, and Greg didn't get it, so he blew it off. "How close to goats are we?!" He asked excitedly.

"Greg!" Catherine yelled.

"Hey, they'll surround us in a bit. Get used to it." He said.

She sighed. Greg was right. Damn goats were going to be everywhere in a while, but hey, she _was_ going to get to meet the elusive Pete Somalia.

"Jim, why is Pete so rarely seen or heard from?" she asked.

"Dropped on his head as a kid." He stated simply, with a shrug.

Everyone just looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Oh, he's fine. Mentally he's perfect, smart as hell. He just talks funny…I probably should have told you all that." He paused for a second. "But, no, he's great. I'll need to be around for when he's talking to you, because you won't understand what he's saying. That's why he isn't a public guy, always made fun of."

"Oh." They said.

Grissom sighed internally. What the hell?! Why couldn't things be easier? Now he has to have an interpreter? When are the aliens going to come down, people going to decide to elect Bush to a third term and Greg have a kid, because those have to be the only worse things left.

"Know what I just thought of?!" Greg laughed from his seat in the far back.

"What?"

"What Hodges is going to look like when we get back!" he laughed harder.

"What?" Grissom asked again.

"We left Archie and Bobby to look after him. You really think that those two would be able to stop Sara from pulling a 'door' on him? That's if they even tried to stop her from doing it in the first place."

"Oh hell." Grissom sighed and pulled over.

Everyone sat in the truck and listened as Grissom made it very clear to Sara, over the phone, that she was to go nowhere near Hodges. She said that Nick and Warrick were probably around to protect him, so unless he really pissed her off badly, he should be fine. Not wanting to expose the fact that Nick and Warrick were with him, Grissom dropped the subject, said his goodbyes, and they all got back on the road.

Hour and a half later… 

"How long?" Greg whined.

"Shut up."

"Seriously." Greg whined again. "I wanna know!"

"Shut up."

"You-"

"SHUT UP!"

Greg's response was sticking out his tongue.

"Greg, you want to walk the rest of the way?" Brass asked. "I'll tell Gil to pull over, and don't think he won't do it."

"Well I just-" Greg started.

"Look, we're here!" Warrick yelled.

"Holy hell!" Nicked yelled too.

"Jesus Jim. You said 'farm', not half of Nevada." Catherine smirked.

"Well, he is the jewelry guy for half the world too…so that can't really hurt his wallet much either." Grissom said.

Greg was the only one that hadn't commented on the farm…because his face was glued to the window. He was in a friggin' petting zoo heaven. Pete might have owned a goat farm, but when have you ever been on a farm with just one type of animal?

As they finally pulled up to the big house and climbed out of the truck, they noticed that Pete had goats (and a hell of a lot of goats, at that), dogs, cats, horses, sheep, two donkeys, some llamas, emus, a pond with ducks, and oh look, there goes a chicken!

"Pete has enough rooms for all of us?"

"Well, Catherine is obviously going to get her own room-" Brass started.

"Um…actually, that won't be necessary." Warrick said.

"Well, I think we just found out one reason for the divorce." Nick laughed…and got whacked upside the head by Catherine.

"They already decided on it before we got together, Nick!" she yelled.

"Anyway…Catherine and Warrick together. Grissom and I will share a room, and that leaves Nick and Greg to room together." Brass said.

"What?!" Nick yelled.

"Hey, roomie!" Greg threw an arm around Nick's shoulder. "You gonna tell me all about your new girlfriend?"

"No way!" Nick moved away from Greg. "He smells, never shuts up, is obsessed with hearing about my girlfriends, and, did I mention…he smells!"

"Shut up and get your bags." Grissom sighed. "We don't have time for this." He said, as Pete finally made his appearance.

"Hi der. We gon get up ton if youse da man da ring don fit." Pete said with a welcoming smile.

The group just stared at him with blank looks. What the hell did he just say?

Brass cleared his throat. "Um, basically, if you're the man with the ring, he's your guy."

"Oh…okay, right then." Grissom nodded and shook Pete's hand. "Gil Grissom. Oh, and here's the rings." He somewhat reluctantly handed both ring boxes to him.

Pete nodded and everyone introduced themselves.

"You gon night but sleep down the up cause is ton druft." Pete nodded and led everyone into the house. He set the boxes on the table just inside the door and introduced Wayland, his big ass mutt/mutt mixed breed dog. "Dis Wayland. Don gon bites no not on you."

Everyone looked at Grissom, who looked at Brass. He just laughed. "Its drafty upstairs, so we're all sleeping downstairs. He figures we're tired after the trip so we're going to sleep now. Then he introduced Wayland. He doesn't bite."

"We don't get to play with the goats first?" Greg whined.

"No. They aren't for play, Greg."

"Bet me." He muttered before he and Nick made their way into their room.

"On him on face it goes the draw?" Pete asked Brass and Grissom.

"It was a joke." Brass explained and Pete went to bed.

"What the hell did he just ask us?" Grissom asked.

"What was all over Greg's face."

Grissom and Brass both chuckled as they heard Greg yelling at Nick down the hall. Apparently he had just found a mirror.

"You better keep an eye on him." Grissom warned.

"He's been alright the whole way, hasn't he?" Brass laughed.

"He's been locked inside the truck with us. He had no other choice. Besides, he was drugged for half the trip."

"I get the point, watch out for Greg." Brass sighed.

"Its not Greg I'm worried about, its your cousin's farm." Grissom said wearily.

Everyone fell asleep rather quickly. Pete had been right; they were all worn out from the trip. All but Greg that was, since he'd had a couple more of hours sleep than they all did, and that's all a Greg needed to be up and ready…for trouble.

Since everyone else was in bed, Greg decided that he was damn well going to get his playtime in with the goats. He lived in Vegas, dammit, how many opportunities like this was he going to get?

He got out of bed and got dressed, making sure to be quiet, though he was sure Nick had laughed himself into a coma at his Yogi Bear footie pajamas. Greg slipped out of the room and…right into Wayland. What was it Pete said? Mumbo jumbo something or other. Whatever, the dog didn't bite, and that's all Greg needed to know. Like he really needed a repeat of the other day…

Wayland was following Greg, something he didn't really care about…until Wayland decided to be a dick and cut in front, causing Greg to knock into the front table, knocking everything off.

Greg hurriedly tried putting everything back before someone came out to inspect the noise, but it was of no use, he heard footsteps coming. He stuffed everything that was left on the floor into his jacket pockets and shoved himself and Wayland out the front door…just in time for Pete and Grissom to miss him and go back to bed.

Greg laughed quietly about his damn fine skills again, and he and Wayland went about their business. They stalked quietly across the yard to the nearest pen that contained the llamas…cause why in the hell not take your time and pet the llamas, too?

Before he finally got to his ultimate goal, the goats, Greg stopped to pet every type of animal Pete had. That included the turtles in the pond that they had overlooked on their initial arrival.

Wayland was a cool partner to have along with him. He listened to the story of the Girl Scouts…and didn't make fun of him. He listened to the stories of Jersey and the crazy things Greg would do to her, if he ever got the chance to meet her. He also listened to Greg's plans for revenge against Nick and Warrick for making fun of him. Jerks…

Almost two hours after he and the dog had first left the house, Greg caught sight of the first big pen that held goats. He ran straight to it. Giggling like a schoolgirl, he went through and named his favorites as he pet them.

Squiddles was the three-legged goat in the pen. No idea as to why he had only three legs, but that made him top goat in Greg's book. As Greg was petting Squiddles, the other goats that he had paid attention to apparently got jealous, and began to fight for his attention. Greg pretty much ignored them. Not that he was being mean, but dammit, Squiddles was the shit!

Pongo, Davie, and Shamus (the three that were previously dubbed the best goats ever- before Greg discovered Squiddles) began to eat at Greg's jacket. He didn't care though…look at the cute lil goat!

He took his jacket off and threw it to the ground. Greg figured they could have the damn thing since he had packed another. The three went nuts for it and damn near ate the whole thing.

Some time went by, and though Greg really didn't want to say good-bye, he knew he had to get back to the house. He gave his new friend one last pat and headed back to the house with Wayland.

Just as he was getting ready to sneak back into his room to catch some sleep, Grissom and Brass came out of their room.

"Morning, Greg. Why are you up so early?"

"Oh, just an early riser I guess." He laughed nervously.

"Yeah…" Grissom didn't buy it for a second. "…Is Pete up yet? I want to get to work on the rings." He said as he noticed the two ring boxes missing from the table.

* * *

Oh my…drama.

Reviews make me happy…you know you want to make me happy.

thegreatbluespoon

And don't forget to go check out 'What Goes Around' by thegreatTDCSI -that's me and TDCSI together (don't knock the originality). Its rated M…for damn good reason.


	6. Retrieve and Reprieve

Yeah, I know I've not updated in forever…but you guys are already spoiled compared to what a lot of other authors give you, so give me a break. I was sick anyways, so its not like it was my fault.

Thanks to everyone out there…for no reason in particular, just thanks.

And a big 'ol Happy Belated Birthday goes out to **louised** as well.

* * *

There were several thoughts going through Greg's head right then…and not one of them good. 

He was, most certainly, a dead man when Grissom found out.

"Greg?"

"Uh…"

Thankfully for him, Nick, Warrick and Catherine all came out of their rooms just then.

"Morning, everyone." Brass greeted them all. "How'd everyone sleep last night?"

"I slept alright." Nick said, as he stretched.

"We slept fine, except for this loud noise real early this morning." Catherine said.

"Jim, Pete and I heard it too, but we never saw you two out here investigating." Grissom said.

"Ah…uh…Greg, how'd you sleep?" Warrick changed the subject.

Greg laughed nervously as Pete made his way down the stairs.

"Doe down on nigh goes how it? Goes on moin?" he asked with expectant eyes.

Once again, the group simply turned to Brass for translation.

He turned to Pete and laughed, "they slept fine last night, and, by the looks of things, they're ready to go this morning."

"Yes, sir." Grissom said excitedly. "I noticed you already grabbed up the rings. I'd like to help, if at all possible."

Pete looked confused. "Don of ring. Won of ring?"

Everyone turned back to Brass as his eyes went wide.

"Pete, you sure?" he asked.

"About what?" Grissom asked suspiciously.

Brass held up a hand to silence him as he repeated his question.

No one saw Greg slip outside.

"I tell no on goes ring. I got and goes to on does table." Pete said with a nod.

"Crap. This is not good." Brass muttered.

"What the hell is going on with the rings, Jim?!"

As Brass tried explaining that the rings were missing, Greg was outside, retracing his steps from earlier. A mental checklist was in order.

Llamas…nope, nothing there.

Horses and donkeys…nothing around those jackasses.

Emus…damn, nothing.

Turtle/duck pond…hopefully not, but Greg doesn't have time to get wet right now.

Second round at the llama pen…yeah, they weren't there before, but have you ever pet a llama? Friggin' soft.

Goat pen number one…not a damn thing.

Goat pen number two…no rings yet, but look at Davey, Shamus and Pongo!

Goat pen number two, second time over…nearly forgetting his purpose and going straight for his three-legged friend, Greg realized what must have happened the moment he caught sight of Squiddles.

Oh my God!" Greg screamed loudly.

So loud, in fact, that all the birds took off, the llamas, emus, horses, donkeys and goats went running, and everyone in the house came busting ass outside.

"Greg?!" They all yelled, as they made their way to him.

"What the hell's the matter with you?"

"Done why goat and leg pet?" Pete asked.

"Why are you in a pen with his three-legged pet goat, Greg?" Brass interpreted.

Greg just stood there and stammered.

"What did you do, Greg?" Grissom asked.

"Nothing." He answered.

"Bull." Catherine snorted.

"Spill it before Grissom kills you." Warrick added.

"He's cool?" Greg tried.

"Greg, I woke up twice last night to go to the bathroom and I didn't see you in our room either time." Nick said.

"Where the hell were you?"

"Here." Greg sighed.

"Here?"

Greg nodded.

"Here, as in the three-legged goat pen?"

"And the llamas, emus, turtles, ducks and other goats. All the animals here." Greg answered.

"Greg?" Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you have anything to do with the noise this morning?"

Greg sighed, "Yes."

"Greg?"

"Yeah, Grissom?"

"Did you, by any chance, feed Sara's and my grandmother's ring to the three-legged goat?"

Through the laughter of everyone else, Greg answered that Squiddles hadn't eaten anything but the plants Greg had picked for him, and that it was either Pongo, Shamus or Davey that had eaten the rings.

"Jim, you were supposed to watch him!"

Brass tried to offer up an excuse, but all he could do was laugh along with everyone else.

"Why the hell are you all laughing?! The goddamn goats ate my rings! Now I can see why Catherine would have all those nightmares about them, they're evil!" Grissom yelled.

"You know, Gil, you can get them back." Catherine laughed.

"One of three ways, my friend." Brass slapped him on the back.

Grissom thought for a minute and yelled. "Hell no!"

"Greg can do it!" Nick offered.

"Wait a minute. What the hell can Greg do?" Greg asked, unaware of what exactly he'd just been volunteered for.

"Greg, there are three ways to get the rings, that you lost, back. One, make the goats throw up, and I don't see Pete going for that." At Pete's look of disapproval, Grissom continued. "Two is for me to go fishing for those rings. Seeing as those goats are perfectly healthy, not dead, and we don't know which of the three of them ate the rings, I very highly doubt that Pete will allow that."

"Nope um way!" Pete hollered. "So goes rings. Mexico sold in creek loses the upstream!

Brass laughed, "The short, low rated version would be 'no' for that option."

"Yeah." Grissom drawled out." Okay then. Greg, the third, and basically only way, is to let nature go for it."

"Excuse me?!" Greg exclaimed.

"You heard the man, Greggo." Warrick laughed. "Grab a bag, man."

"There is no way in hell you can possibly expect me to collect…poop…all day!"

"Of course not all day, Greg. With the time that figures in when they actually ate the rings, you should only be out here for the next four hours or so."

"We'll bring lunch!" Catherine yelled, as they all made their way back to they house.

"Assholes!" Greg yelled and kicked a dirt clod…that turned out to not be a dirt clod. "Aw…that's nasty!"

A few minutes later, Pete brought out a couple of old plastic shopping bags, plastic gloves, another jacket and well wishes (which made no freaking sense to him at all.)

Everyone ate breakfast and listened to each other's ideas for how Grissom should propose to Sara.

Among the ideas were the ever-so-popular- carriage ride in the park (thrown out for fear of a stampede), putting the ring in some type of food (thrown out because Sara had already choked once before, better not chance it again), and Grissom getting on one knee in a big 'ol field of flowers (thrown out because, with his luck, it would be a big 'ol field of something Sara was deathly allergic to.)

"Jim, date on choke? The guy bad shirt and it?" Pete asked, pointing to Grissom.

"Yeah, that's the guy." Brass answered.

"What did he call me?" Grissom asked.

"He asked if you were 'the date guy'."

"_He_ knows about that?" Grissom sighed. "I can't believe you people."

"Like I said, I think people in China know about the worst date ever. Besides, I had to tell him, its funny as hell."

"Whatever, Jim. Why does he want to know if I'm that guy?"

Everyone turned to Pete for an explanation, but Greg burst through the door with a bag held high and a proud look on his face.

"Shamus did it!" he yelled.

"You got the rings?!"

"No, I got the poop. _You_ can go ring mining." Greg said as he handed to bag off to Nick…

…who handed the bag off to Warrick, who passed it to Brass, who dare not pass it to Catherine after the look she gave him, so he passed it to Grissom. Grissom just stared at the bag. Pete sighed, grabbed up the bag and left the room.

Twenty minutes later, Pete was back with both rings.

"Uh…are they clean?" Catherine asked. "I refuse to let that girl put a poop ring on her finger."

"Nah, goes it clean. Real doe industrial." Pete smiled and handed Grissom the rings to inspect. "Doody free."

"He used industrial strength cleaner on them. Nothing wrong with them now, except the size." Brass said.

"Just make this one," Grissom held up the old ring, "the same size as this one," he indicated Sara's ring.

"Sure. Take day…all it. Goes under and over just what to want. Jus not goat and leg pet." Pete said.

"He'll be all day with the rings, so just do whatever you want…just leave the goat alone." Brass said.

Pete went about his business with the rings and invited Grissom along. Nick spent all day on the phone with his girlfriend (can you hear that whip cracking?) No one knows where Warrick and Catherine went, though it doesn't take that great of an imagination to figure it out. Brass spent all of his day on Greg watch. Greg had nothing else of value to accidentally feed to goats (that anyone knew of), but they weren't about to take that chance.

Right before everyone got ready to go to bed, Grissom and Pete made their way into the room they had all joined up in. They had the finished ring with them.

Grissom looked happier than Greg did when he first met Squiddles.

"The first step is out of the way." He smiled.

"Yeah. Now all we have to do is figure out how the hell you're actually going to ask her to marry you."

"Gay goings date. Pukes and ups suckers, cops on the java. All too over, then go down ask." Pete nodded confidently.

"What the hell did he just say to me?" Grissom asked.

"Did he just call Grissom gay?"

"See, Griss, we're not the only ones to ever think it!" Greg laughed.

"He didn't call him gay. Pete said that you should take Sara out and do that whole 'terrible date' over again, just better this time. No puking, suckers, or cops with coffee. After you've actually given her a nice 'first date', then propose." Brass responded.

"Oh my God. That's…that's so perfect." Catherine said.

"No kidding." Warrick smiled.

"Grissom, it _is_ perfect. You get a do- over , and your proposal." Nick agreed.

"That's it then. That's what I'll do." Grissom nodded in approval.

"When, though?" Greg asked. "You've got a ring and an idea, so when are you doing it?"

"Valentine's Day?" Brass suggested.

"Isn't that…corny?"

"You're taking her out to redo the most horrific date she's ever been on or heard of. Corny is not going to bother her, trust us."

"Valentine's Day…well, I've got two weeks then."

"Better not screw it up this time, old man."

* * *

So, we're leaving the farm and going on another date. That outta be fun! 

Reviews would make me _very_ happy.

thegreatbluespoon


	7. May Luck Be With You

Sorry it's late. I forgot about this, and then I didn't want to do it...so, blah. 

Thanks to Kim for the beta...you rock.

* * *

The trip back to the city was pretty awkward, with Greg talking nonstop in his sleep about just how unfair it was that he was on poop duty, because he'd bet a million dollars that Jersey never got put on poop duty. He then sleepily volunteered Catherine to do it, and told Warrick that he was going to hell for the simple fact that his hair was cooler than his own.

When they arrived at Grissom's, Sara was there.

"Oh, crap," they muttered as they got out of the truck.

"Sara…uh, what, uh what are you doing here?" Grissom asked.

"I was bored. The Neighborhood Watch meeting got over pretty quick, so I decided to come over and have you try some of this stuff I made," she said, holding up a basket with a smile.

"Okay…well, you go on in. We've got some stuff to get out of the back here."

"Why were all of you together?" she asked, obviously confused to see Brass, Catherine, Nick, Warrick and Greg all pile out of a vehicle Grissom had been driving.

"We all had to go to the store and Griss was on his way back from that thing he was at. We just figured he was used to driving... so we just asked him. Carpool, you know?" Nick offered.

"Where are your things? The groceries or whatever," she asked.

"Uh…they didn't have what we wanted," Greg offered.

"I…really think I don't want to know the real answer to any of this," she said. "Can we just go in and eat? There's plenty for all of you, too."

Greg didn't say anything as he made his way inside and sat at the table, obviously ready to eat.

"Well, I guess that would be your answer, Sar," Nick laughed and went in to join Greg, followed by Warrick, Catherine and Brass.

"Are you going to tell me what was really going on, or are you just going to stick with the lame 'store' story?"

"What are you talking about? We really did go to the store."

"Gil, I have many faults…but being wrong is _not _one of them."

"I'll stick with the 'store' story."

---

They all sat down and ate (or tried to eat, because what Sara had made was just _not_ edible) and all carefully avoided spilling to Sara about the whole plan.

After they had eaten (and that means spitting their food into their glasses and napkins), they all decided that it was too late, and that they needed to go home and sleep.

Greg had been stealthy again that day, after the return from Pete's. He had replaced the ring with no police interruption.

Sara and Grissom spent the rest of the night together talking about random things. Things like her trying to get the real story out of him. Things like Grissom discovering that Hodges had actually survived Sara in his absence. Things were of a decent normality…until he asked her to move in with him. She freaked out, but of course she still agreed to. She wouldn't be in her right mind if she'd said no.

The only problem with the move-in was that it pushed the plans for the date back. It took two weeks for the group to get Sara moved in with Grissom, and another week for Sara and Grissom to straighten things out around the house until they liked it.

One month after the proposal was brought up to the group, they finally had a Sara-less night (due to a major lie, sugar-coated in complete bogusness) to scheme and plot.

"Griss, in order for us to know exactly what we have to do to avoid disaster, you're going to have to tell us about the date. The whole thing."

"I thought Sara already told you?"

"She did…and it was funny as hell. We just…need to be reminded."

"Yeah. Remind us all, please." Greg leaned on the table and began grinning like a fool.

Grissom sighed and began. "I got to her place, almost backed out, and then decided I had to go on with it. I almost died when I saw the way she was dressed, but I survived…obviously. We went to ride a coaster, and she didn't want to. I talked her into it, and it turned out to be a very bad thing, because she threw up afterwards for about 20 minutes." Grissom paused to let the laughter die down before he continued. "Then we went to the movies and she got something stuck in her hair, because of some devil incarnate child and his ignorant father."

"A sucker. She said it was a sucker in her hair."

Grissom continued, "We left the theater and couldn't get the sucker out of her hair, so she told me to cut it out. I went to do it, after she knew very well that I didn't want to, and a cop knocked on the window. That made us both jump, and that's why she was wearing the hat. You guys saw that patch out of her hair. It was bad."

"Damn straight it was. I made the mistake of laughing at her one time, and she decked me right in the arm," Warrick said.

"Anyways, the cop made us get out of the car because he thought I was trying to kill her or something, he almost maced me, and then spilled his coffee all over Sara. We went to a gas station to get her a shirt and a hat. After that…well, that is when we went to go eat, and she nearly choked."

"Then you both showed up at Good Times, and we all discovered that you weren't actually gay," Greg laughed.

"Greg," Grissom sighed, "shut up."

"That was the rundown of the whole travesty. So…how are we going to avoid that kind of stuff this time around?"

The next four hours were spent throwing ideas into the ring, and a good 90 percent of them were rejected due to illegality, lack of funds, the inability to get a hold of a one-legged man with a pet mongoose, and more, much more, illegality.

Once they had finally worked up a plan that sounded reasonable, and when Sara walked in the door, everyone got up and left to prepare for the next day.

"What was that little pow-wow for?" she asked.

"Nothing. They were just telling me that it's been awhile since you and I have gone out. So they got me thinking that we should."

"Aw, Gil, are you asking me on a date?" she smiled coyly at him.

"Yeah. Tomorrow?"

"I have to run by the drugstore first, but sure, I can't think of anything better to do," she said.

---

The day was looking up already. Grissom woke up with no back pain, regardless of the fact that he'd fallen asleep in a chair. Sara had made breakfast and it actually tasted good, though Sara didn't seem to want any of it. The newspaper landed on their front step, instead of in the bushes like it usually did. The dog Sara had almost demanded they get, hadn't gone on his favorite rug again. The mail that day included a letter from his mother that held nothing but fantastic news for him.

The day, so far, was great indeed.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I don't know why you'd want me to wear this. Its kinda dressy for the movies, isn't it?"

"Nah, its perfect," he said, with an approving look.

"Thanks. Look, before we go, I have something to tell you."

"Tell me later, we're going to be late."

---

"But she doesn't do well too on the roller coasters, sir."

Nick had been sent to the amusement park to find something else for Grissom and Sara to do, since the coaster was obviously out of the question.

"There is nothing else open. You're lucky I can even get you in on this thing. The park was rented for some spoiled brat's birthday party. The mothers' don't want the coaster going though…something about the bad combination of kids, ice cream, and turns at high speeds."

"Understandable, I guess." Nick thanked the man for his help and called Warrick to see how his venture was turning out.

---

"…being a total dick to me. Yeah, Nicky. They told me I couldn't do that. Alright. Yeah. Bye."

"Do you understand why we can't, sir?" the assistant asked.

"Not really. I work for the county, so why can't you tell me?"

"Because I'm not authorized to, sir."

"How about you tell me where he's at, or I'll bust your ass?" Warrick raised a threatening eyebrow at him.

It took the clerk a whole three seconds of thought before he decided to give up the info.

"Thanks. Be seeing ya," Warrick said as he made his way off to find his objective.

---

Greg was at the movie theater, and had been for the last six hours. He was sent there to make sure that the sucker kid and his bigmouth father didn't show up, and if they were to show up, make damn sure that they went into a different movie than Grissom and Sara.

Most of his time waiting was spent eating gummy worms and consuming as much soda as humanly possible.

---

Catherine was on ring duty.

None of them liked the fact that the ring had had a first class trip through a grazer's intestine, so Catherine took it in to one of her close connections for yet another cleaning.

The ring was cleaned and polished so well that it shined brighter than the light at the top of the The Luxor.

Her next stop included a certain food establishment.

---

Grissom then received a call from Catherine, letting him know that everything should be in perfect order at the food stand. They were to cut the sandwiches into smaller pieces…just in case, and they had the ring waiting there so Sara wouldn't see Catherine on the date.

He held Sara's hand on the way to the car and opened the door for her. When she couldn't stop laughing, he had to ask, "What? What did I do?"

"Oh. Nothing. Its just that…well, the last time you did this, I was still thinking you were gay," she giggled.

He rolled his eyes, shut her door and got in himself. "Have I proved to you yet that I'm not?" he joked.

"On more than one occasion." She laughed harder. "Where are you taking me?"

"Don't worry about it," he said, making her a bit nervous, since the last time she heard that was…

As they got closer and closer to the amusement park, Sara's questions got more and more frequent.

When they pulled into the amusements parking lot, the profanities coming out of Sara's mouth got more and more frequent.

"No way in hell are you doing this to me! I don't even think so! No!" she yelled.

"Would you just trust me?" he laughed.

They made their way into the park and Grissom excused himself so that he could use the bathroom. He went in and Nick was there to meet him.

"Well, what are we in for, Nicky?" he asked excitedly.

"Griss, the whole park has been rented out for a party. The coaster is down due to concerned parents."

"I really wanted to take her on that coaster." At Nick's confused look he added, "Don't worry, I slipped her a motion sickness pill. She should be fine on the thing now."

"Well, like I said, it's closed and your inside man isn't here tonight."

"Damn! Well, what _is_ open for us?"

Nick snickered a bit before he answered, "the Teacups."

---

"Griss, I don't think I should ride this thing."

"Sara, it's nothing like the coaster. You should be fine."

"No, I mean I shouldn't because-"

"You're not getting out of this," he laughed, grabbed her hand and dragged her to the whimsically painted things. They rode through one whole session. They had fun too.

…until Grissom got sick.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Sara asked, the concern in her voice quite obvious.

"Yes. Just get me the hell away from those teacups," he moaned.

They walked around the park; dodging little ice cream covered children, and talked for a while before Sara tried again. "Griss, we really need to talk."

He smiled. "Talk away, my dear."

"I'm-" she started, but got cut off by Grissom's phone ringing.

The ID said 'Warrick', so Grissom had to take the call. He walked away from Sara so she couldn't hear, and asked what was up.

"The officer is on duty at the same spot as last time. I'm actually talking to him right now, and he remembers you. He wants to know if the coffee came out of her shirt."

"Tell him yes and go on with the plan, Warrick. Thanks a lot. Bye"

"What did Warrick want?" Sara asked.

"Nothing, really. Just something about a bug." He shrugged.

"Now where are we going?" she asked, forgetting to finish her statement from before.

"Still a surprise. Just go with it." He smiled as he walked her to the car.

When they arrived at the movies, Sara got a funny feeling that Grissom was redoing the first date. She questioned him about it and he caved…to a point. He admitted that he felt bad that their first date was, quite possibly, the worst thing he could have ever put her through, and that he felt he should make it up to her. He said nothing about proposing.

---

On the inside of the theater…the devil incarnate and his father were buying their drinks and snacks before they went into 'Ocean's Thirteen' to be seated.

Where was Greg?

Certainly not at his post if the pair got past him. Greg was in the bathroom, due to all of the soda he'd consumed.

When Grissom escorted Sara inside, they decided to see 'Ocean's Thirteen.' They got their tickets and each went to the bathroom before they got drinks.

"Greg? What are you doing in here?" Grissom asked.

"Uh, what do people normally do in bathrooms?" he asked incredulously.

"How long have you been in here? Did those two come in?"

"I had a _lot_ to drink…so I really don't know if they're here," Greg admitted.

"Just great, Greg," Grissom sighed. "Really, just great."

"I had to pee!" Greg reasoned.

"Greg, thanks for your help so far…but right now you need to go check all the movie rooms and see if they're in there."

"What do they look like?"

"Like they should have horns," Grissom said, and left the room to meet back up with Sara.

As Sara gave the pimply clerk her drink and popcorn order, Grissom saw Greg slip out of the bathroom and down the hall of theaters.

Grissom gave his order and, after they collected their things, they began their way to one of the rooms showing their movie. Sara went and took her seat when Grissom made the excuse of receiving the wrong soda. He went back into the hallway, only to be met by Greg, Nick, Catherine and Warrick.

"Why are you all here?" he asked.

"We're bored and wanted to watch," Catherine said, excitedly.

"I'm not proposing until after we eat. Greg, did you see them?"

"Uh, no. I don't think they're here." The truth of the matter was that Greg never checked. He saw the other three come in and went to talk with them.

"I'm going back in there. I'm not sure how long the movie is, but this date is _not_ going as well as we'd planned."

* * *

Reviews are always loved...always!

thegreatbluespoon


	8. Antiperfect

Ah, what can I say? I know that I've ignored this one and ignored this one…and, well, ignored it some more, but at least I've finished it now. I thank everyone that harassed me about finishing it, and everyone that's read it for whatever reason.

Thanks to kakidoll. Why? Because every single time I talk to her, the conversation somehow leads into something like, "So, about those goats…" And thanks to TDCSI, because her constantly telling me that I suck for not finishing this actually did kinda help motivate me to not suck anymore.

Because the site had a spaz attack, this is getting reposted.

* * *

Decently upset that the night so far was going completely against what he'd planned (though he was pretty glad that Sara wasn't the one that had puked), Grissom silently begged any god, anywhere that the night would only get better from there on.

"Hey." She smiled at him as he took his seat next to her.

"Hey. It didn't start yet, did it?"

"No, it's just previews. What took you so long?"

"Uh…long lines," he lied in a whisper.

"Oh. Okay."

Thankful that Sara bought the line and asked no more of his terribly awkward behavior that night, Grissom smiled at her again, took her hand and turned his attention to the movie screen.

A few minutes after the actual movie started, he heard an eerily familiar laugh from a couple rows behind.

He didn't want to turn around; he didn't need to turn around. Grissom knew who it was. It was the sucker kid and his annoying dad.

Way to be on watch, Greg.

Hoping against hope that Sara was paying more attention to the movie trailers than any normal human attending the movies does, and wasn't noticing the near satanic laughs behind her, Grissom began trying to ignore them himself.

But…when the movie finally started, she leaned over to him and whispered, "Gil, _please_ tell me I'm just imagining that noise."

"You know I don't like lying to you, Sara," he sighed.

"Crap."

"Just ignore it, Sara. Let someone else take care of it."

"Ignore it?! The movie is loud enough for a deaf man to hear, and they're louder than it is!"

Though what she said may have been politically incorrect, Grissom knew it was right in all other ways. Looking around the theater, he noticed several other patrons shooting hateful looks back at the father and son, muttering 'shut up,' and saying things about getting the management.

"Sara, someone else will handle it. You just got your hair back to where you had it before," he warned.

"Don't get me started on my hair, Grissom."

He blushed and tried to reinforce the whole 'let someone else deal with the idiot' thing.

She rolled her eyes and went back to watching the movie, but ten more minutes into it, the man started yelling things at the screen and the boy would yell things simply to encourage his father.

Sara had had enough.

Turning around in her seat, she yelled, "Excuse me, sir!" When the man ignored her, she yelled the same thing, only louder, drawing attention to herself and Grissom from the two she was after, and pretty much everyone else in the room.

"You need something?" the man asked, his tone indicating he was mad about being interrupted.

"Yeah, actually I do," Sara said, her tone matching his. "We all do. We all need you and your kid to shut the hell up for once in your irritating lives!"

While Grissom let out an embarrassed groan and slumped down in his seat, the crowd around them cheered Sara on as the man and his son immediately began yelling back at her.

"You're that lady!" the boy yelled. "The sucker lady!"

"And you're that little devil boy that no one likes!" Sara yelled back.

The man got up from his seat and made his way to her while telling his son to go get the manager. When he got up to where Sara and Grissom were, he told Sara that she needed to shut her fat mouth…and that seriously didn't sit well with Grissom.

With boos from their audience supporting him, Grissom stood and got in the man's face, telling him to back off. The movie stopped, the lights came on, and the manager and boy came running in, just in time to miss seeing the man shove Grissom back into Sara.

"The movies?" the man said, nearly rolling with laughter. "Helluva place to take your gal on Valentine's! Where to next? McDonalds?!"

"Oh, shut up!" Grissom demanded before he turned to the manager and asked if he was going to do anything about the man and his son.

"Sir, you need to calm down before we have to call the police," the manager warned Grissom.

"Why the heck are you telling _him_ that?!" Sara yelled. "That guy's the one being a jerk!" she pointed at the father. "He shoved my boyfriend!"

"Ma'am, I never saw that. Now, please keep your voices down. There are other movies going."

"Yeah, I'll keep my voice _down_ when I stick my foot _up_-"

"Hey!" The manager yelled. "That'll be enough out of you."

Grissom looked the manager dead in the eye and told him that he'd better not talk to Sara like that again or there'd be problems, big problems.

The man crossed his arms in a challenging way, and seeing this, the father did the same. The boy cheered them on and the crowd around them instantly started chanting 'fight!' like it was suddenly freshman year in high school and not a public setting.

Sara tugged on Grissom's arm, trying to get him to drop the matter and leave, but he wouldn't; he wanted apologies from both of them to her for talking like that.

"Hey, if she can talk like a man, then she can be talked to like a man," the father snapped, only shortening Grissom's fuse with him.

"You two need to leave." The manager pointed at the exit. "Now."

"We'll leave once she gets her apologies, thank you."

The man grabbed Grissom's shirt to escort him out the door and everyone let out their 'ooh!' sounds. Grissom shoved the manager and the father punched him. Grissom punched the father right back, despite the fact that his nose had turned into a bloody fountain.

When the manager started to take off to go call the cops, Sara tripped him and made him land on his face. This caused him to bust his lip, but the guy quickly recovered and ran to make the call.

With Satan senior on the floor in pain and Satan junior tending to him, Sara tried to inspect Grissom's face but couldn't since he had both hands over it, just trying to promote their leaving instead of being worried about too much else.

"Wereallygottago," came Grissom's muffled suggestion to Sara.

She nodded, grabbed their things as quickly as she could, and started to run down the aisle toward the exit with the bleeder before she turned and ran back towards the kid and his father.

Kneeling down by the young kid, she told him, "The Easter Bunny and Santa _aren't_ real!" and got up to run again before she thought of something else. "Oh! And you're adopted!"

With that said, Grissom and Sara ran out past the fat-lipped manager, who was ranting like crazy on the phone, and made it out to the car without problem. Grissom started it, threw it in drive and slammed on the gas pedal, not caring where he was driving, just caring that they were getting away from there.

A few minutes into the drive, Sara burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Grissom asked.

"I'm out with my boyfriend on Valentine's, and we're wanted by the police."

He groaned, "Sara-"

"_Wanted_ by the _cops_!" Sara continued laughing so hard that she snorted, eliciting a small laugh out of Grissom too. "We haven't quite topped the original date yet, but the effort sure is being made, I can tell you that."

"Well, do you want to stop at the gas station and get a couple of shirts?" he joked as he drove on, not meaning it in the least bit.

"God, no!" she snorted out in another fit of laughter. "I have an odd feeling that if I made you wear that same shirt, you'd make me wear the hat again. And that's _not_ happening!"

"But I loved you in that hat," he said, sticking his bottom lip out.

"Nice try. Just get us some food."

--

Another forty minutes of driving later (forty because Grissom just so happened to know the route cops didn't really frequent), and he pulled into the lot next to the little stand from their first date.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes when he saw the car across the lot from his own. Glad that Sara didn't see them, he let out a slight laugh when the security lights allowed him to see Catherine smack Greg in the cramped space of the car filled with themselves, Warrick, Nick and Brass.

Walking Sara to the small picnic table, Grissom's nerves were in overdrive because of the question he still had to ask her. Sara started to get a little nervous because she picked up Grissom's nervousness and realized that she still had something to say to him as well.

Taking his seat across from her, he asked what she wanted to eat.

"Same thing I had the last time, minus the tomato," she answered. "My stomach's just been kinda…I don't know. Just no tomato, please."

"Okay." He nodded and went to order.

Standing at the window, which was a safe enough distance away to have a discussion about the ring and all plans surrounding it, the woman that had taken over the shop since the last time just couldn't help but flood Grissom with her excitement over the matter. "I just _loves _me a weddin'! Oh, but this isn't one of those ''cause we hafta' types-a things, is it?" she asked, her odd Southern drawl adding even more of a quirk to the question for Grissom.

"E-excuse me?"

"I _mean _did ya knock 'er up?" the woman went on in a near rant. "Oh, honey, I've got seven kids of my own, and they're all boys. I thought my husband had done gone'n drilled it inta their heads to wrap it up right, but _no_; they'll dip their wick in any trashy whore out there. Well, not that _your_ gal's a whore or anything; she seems like a nice'un. But _then_ I gotta call 'em- the whores, ya know- I gotta call 'em family when they get hitched. The 'ol shotgun weddin'," she sighed. With a wave at him, she went on. "Oh, and I tell ya, them whore's fathers just get downright _angry_ at my boys for doin' what they done with their little girls. Ugh. That's just what they get for not teaching them to have their boyfriends _wrap_ it _up_."

Having had his mouth open in shock the whole time she was talking about her Jerry Springer-worthy family, he sputtered out "Uh." just to participate in the conversation.

"But ya'll two just don't seem like that kinduva couple, ya know. Ya'll two seem like a classy kinduva couple. Real cute-like, ya know."

"Right." Throwing on his best smile, he told her that he was pretty sure Sara wasn't pregnant. "She hasn't been acting funny or anything. Well, I mean, except for today. And she hasn't told me that she is…even though she's been trying to tell me something all day."

"Holy crap, ya knocked 'er up!" the woman said in a congratulatory tone.

"Holy crap, I knocked her up," he said in a tone not even close to that of hers. Looking over at Sara, she looked back at him, smiled and waved. He gave a fake smile and waved back.

"What's wrong? Don't want kids?" the sandwich lady asked.

"Eventually, yes," he said. "But I wasn't exactly hoping to propose to my pregnant girlfriend." His phone rang and the lady went about making their food while he answered it. "Hello?"

"I know you can't talk with Sara right there, so we'll talk in code."

"Greg, _what_ is your problem?"

"Technically it's Catherine's problem for letting me have the phone," Greg answered. "But since you said my name, I'll assume that you _can_ talk for some reason."

"For the time being, yes."

"Cool," he said. "OW!"

"Greg? Greg?"

"Gil, he's an idiot. Ignore him. You didn't ask her yet, did you? You better not have done it yet," came Catherine's warning tone now.

"No, not until after we eat," he told her, making damn sure to leave his new revelation out of the conversation.

"How long's that supposed to be, Gil? Greg has gas, it's cramped in this car, and we want to watch two of our best friends get engaged. Oh, and Jim wants to know just why it is that your plate number is being repeatedly called out over the scanner."

Ignoring all but one question, he told her they might as well come over now, so long as they all kept quiet. He had to get his proposal out before Sara told him her secret, so that it didn't seem like he was asking her for that reason, and with knowing her secret adding to the nervousness he already had, he didn't need the five coming along and ruining the proposal any more than he was probably going to himself.

Watching his support team of the corner of his eye, he made a mental note to hit Greg the next time the opportunity presented itself. Everyone else just made it a point to stay out of Sara's line of sight, whereas Greg made it a point to revert back to his ring-fetching, ninja self. Wearing a mask, he was ducking behind everyone as they walked across the parking lot, momentarily hiding behind light poles and cars, Greg couldn't help but make an ass out of himself before they reached the side of the stand.

They stayed on the side of the stand so that Sara couldn't see them or hear Greg's pouts when Grissom demanded that he take the mask off.

"Sooo?"

"What, Catherine?" Grissom sighed.

"When ya doin' it?!"

"I already told you; after we eat."

"Do it now," Brass told him. "We're cold, hungry, tired, tired of Sanders, and I personally have a really bad feeling that something is going to terribly wrong. Otherwise, why would the cops be out for you?"

"No idea what you're talking about, Jim," Grissom said and took the sandwiches and chips the lady set in the window. "But we're hungry, too."

Taking the food over and setting it down on the table, Grissom excused himself to go back for the drinks. Going back, he got them, the ring, and good luck wishes from everyone, including the crazy sandwich lady.

Thanking them, he took a deep breath, stuffed the ring into his pocket and headed back over to the table.

"No comments about sex this time," Sara warned him as she took her drink. "As comfortable as that subject may be now, I'd still rather not risk it."

He laughed and agreed.

After they were both done putting their chips on their sandwiches, Sara noticed that Grissom had completely stopped talking. He'd also stopped looking at her.

"Gil?"

Staring at his food, he acknowledged her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong," he laughed nervously. "Just eat."

Even though her curiosity wasn't curbed by that pathetic excuse for, well, an excuse, Sara did as he said and went on with eating.

"He's gonna screw up!" Greg whispered.

"He is," Nick agreed. "Look how nervous he is!"

"Is he going to throw up?" Warrick asked.

Catherine told them all to shut up and just watch, while Brass continued his look out for police cars. With Greg still being wanted by the police, and Grissom now supposedly in trouble, there was no telling how the night would go.

Back at the table, Grissom finished his food sooner than he would have liked, and was now waiting on Sara to finish hers.

Sara was eating a little slower than normal, trying to think of ways to tell Grissom what she need to say. She didn't know if he was going to be mad, or if he was actually going to be happy about it.

When she finally did finish eating, the silence stayed between them for a couple of awkward minutes…until it was broken with, "Wally? What're you doin' here?! Oh, who cares!? Where's that Bob at?!" the sandwich lady exclaimed.

Now, individually, both the names Bob and Wally are equally innocent and are perfectly fine to hear a crazy sandwich lady bellow out on a night like Grissom had been having so far…but the names Wally and Bob hollered out together on a night like Grissom had been having could only mean one thing: Grissom was screwed, and not in a good way.

Around the side of the stand, Greg went pale and everyone else went bright pink as they tried to hold back their laughter.

"Get me outta here!" Greg demanded in a harsh whisper. "I'm not going to jail!"

"Hey!" Catherine snapped. "I am _not_ missing this proposal, Sanders!"

With the team keeping Greg under control and trying to watch Grissom propose at the same time, they really couldn't do too much to help Grissom if he needed it when it came to the cops, and he knew this, so he kept his cool when the two uniformed men walked up to the window and started talking to the lady.

Sara couldn't help but laugh because she thought the whole night of travesties was just hilarious, and when Grissom thought about it, well, it was a little funny to him as well.

"What do we do?" she whispered.

"We leave," he told her. "Calmly, we get up and we go."

She nodded through a laugh and grabbed her things.

Grissom quickly threw their trash away before he and Sara began to make their way towards the car. Keeping his face turned away from the officers as they walked past the window, Grissom cringed when the lady turned her attention from her own conversation long enough to tell Sara 'congratulations, honey!'

"Crap, we missed it!" Catherine said and jumped out from her hiding spot. "Congratulations, you two!"

Sara, not having any idea as to what the hell people were congratulating her for, was wearing a look of confusion to go with Grissom's look of frustration.

Everyone else but Greg came out from the side of the building and congratulated her, but she told them she had no idea what they were talking about. Before anyone got the chance to say anything else, Wally turned around and said, "Hey, Bob, ain't that guy kinda lookin' like the movie man to you?"

Bob turned around, looked Grissom up and down, and then said, "By golly, Wally, I think ya might be right!"

Realizing his night was about to take a serious turn towards everything unfunny, Grissom knew he had to propose right then, or Sara would tell him about the baby first and he didn't want that.

"Sara," he said as Wally grabbed his handcuffs and worked them onto his wrists. "I know this is absolutely _the_ worst time to be doing this… ow, Wally… but I've been trying to redo our first date so that I could propose to you… Wally, seriously, that hurts… because I love you… Are you even trying, Wally… I know what you've been trying to tell me, and it's great. I couldn't be happier, but I want you to know… Wally, dammit… that I'm not asking… Wally, I swear to… because of that. I'm asking because I want to."

"Oh," Sara said, because that's all she could say.

As Wally and Bob walked Grissom to the car, he yelled back to her, "Well? Will you marry me?!"

"Yes, but I'm not pregnant!"

Wally, Bob, and Grissom all stopped dead in their tracks. "She sayin' she ain't pregnant, sir."

"Yeah, I caught that, Bob," Grissom snapped. "What do you mean, you aren't pregnant?!" he yelled back to her.

"Well, I thought I was, but I'm not. I've been trying to tell you for the last couple days. You've been acting so weird that I figured you thought I was too."

"You've been acting just as strange as me!"

"Because you and those guys," she pointed at Catherine and crew, "were freaking me out. That and I didn't know what you were going to say. We've never talked about kids."

"Oh. Oh, well…we're still getting married, right?!"

"Yes, now go to jail. I'll come bail you out in a bit," she laughed.

So Bob and Wally stuck him in their car. Grissom and Sara mouthed 'I love you' to each other before they drove off, and Sara burst out in laughter for probably the hundredth time that night.

Greg snuck around the corner, satisfied that he was safe from arrest, and asked why she was laughing.

"All I wanted to do was tell him I wasn't pregnant and all he wanted to do was propose. Two things that should have been simple, but now you're wanted by the cops and he's going to jail. Oh, and we're most likely banned from a theater."

"How do you know about Greg being wanted by the cops?" Nick asked.

"Why else would he have been hiding when he had a perfectly good opportunity to give me a congratulatory hug?" she joked.

"She's smart," Greg said. "Can I still have my hug?"

"No. Look, Griss has the keys to his car, so I need a ride to go get him."

"We're not all going fit in Jim's car," Catherine said. "Greg automatically stays here. Who's joining him?"

"I will," Warrick volunteered. "I'm starving."

Sara gave her thanks and got all of congrats before she went to get in Brass's car. Catherine gave Warrick strict orders to keep an eye on Greg while they were there and the rest of them went off to go spring Grissom.

Thinking of Grissom and Sara's past, and the night they just went through, Catherine muttered to herself, "If that's the proposal, I'd hate to see the wedding."

* * *

Haa. You all thought Sara was pregnant. You're funny.

I'm _still _too cold to be a smart-ass, so just go review again and make my day all sun shiny, please.

thegreatbluespoon


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